


The Solution

by naivesherlolly



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, PTFP, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23218423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naivesherlolly/pseuds/naivesherlolly
Summary: After the events with Sherlock's sister, Eurus, Molly doesn't quite know where she stands in Sherlock's life. Will they be able to establish what they are to one another before it's too late?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	The Solution

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if this is going to be a one shot, or if this is going to turn into a book...stay tuned :)

Have you ever sat back and realised that you're not anybody's favourite person? You're just there, in the background, just...being. But even then you get the sudden urge to distance yourself from everyone, just so you can be alone. Do you know how that feels? You might do; you might not. But Molly Hooper definitely knows how it feels.

Ever since she made an appearance in Sherlock Holmes' life, she's always been a background character. Yes, sometimes she may be important, and useful, should Sherlock be needing any body parts or access to her lab. But that doesn't make her feel important. That doesn't make her feel wanted. And sure, maybe she has no right to want to feel any of those things, especially not from Sherlock (she's not special, after all...) but considering everything she does for him, she would like to feel at least a little important.

So when she got the call, asking her to admit to something that she knew was true, she felt discarded once again. She felt as though she were a joke. As soon as the phone was put down, Molly slowly sunk to the floor, too upset to even cry. So she just sat there, thinking about the possible repercussions of what she had just said. Yes, Sherlock had said the same thing, but it was entirely debatable whether that was true or not.

 _But this is Sherlock Holmes we're talking about for gods sake,_ Molly thought. _Of course he didn't actually mean it. All this time, there's been the little niggling at my mind - what if he does like me? But I was stupid for thinking that was even a possibility._

And that's what drove Molly partly insane. The what if? question. Yes, in reality there was a small (a very small) chance that he reciprocated the feelings, but there's a bigger (a much bigger) chance that he doesn't. And that's fine, because Molly has been his friend for so long, that seeing him everyday and thinking that he doesn't reciprocate her feelings has become a normal thing. Nevertheless, it broke her heart.

Taking a few deep breaths, Molly finally managed to get herself up off the floor and continued to make her tea, even though her thoughts were still preoccupied. She knew in the back of her mind that something was off with Sherlock - there was a slight panic to his voice, and it was weird that he seemed to desperate for something so trivial (to him, at least).

 _But that's Sherlock,_ Molly concluded. _He's always up to something - why should now be any different?_ The pathologist finished making her drink and went to sit down her sofa. As she settled down, she grabbed the tv remote off the coffee table, turning the screen on and flicking through her recordings until she found an episode of Glee.

This day had already been bad enough to start with, and now this piled on top of everything else, and work, Molly felt as though she deserved a break. The more she sat there, the more her thoughts started to wonder from the tv show, and towards the subject of her love life.

 _I haven't been very lucky, have I?_ She thought. _Loving a man that doesn't love me back, dating a psychopath and breaking up with a perfectly good man, even if he wasn't terribly bright, I mean - 'meat dagger'?_

Eventually, all thoughts of the phone call and her less than successful love life seemed to dissipate, and she finally got some much needed rest. Even though she didn't mean to, Molly ended up falling asleep on the sofa, Glee still singing softly from the speakers in the background. What awoke her was a gentle knock at her front door.

She opened her eyes groggily, looking at the clock above the television, to see that it was now just gone eleven in the evening. She groaned quietly - _there goes any chance of getting a good night's sleep_.

As she went to answer the door, she stopped for a moment, her hand hovering over the handle. _Who would be calling round this late?_ Suddenly, she was starting to have second thoughts about opening the door after all. Just as she reached up to look through the peephole, a voice came from the other side.

'Molly? Please let me in - I need to speak to you.' Her heart broke slightly when she heard his voice; Sherlock's broken, tired voice. Her heart strings pulled on her muscles, forcing her to open the door, because how could she leave him out there when he sounded so weak?

And when she finally opened the door, she wasn't sure whether she had made a mistake or not. On one hand, she hadn't ignored him, but on the other hand, she couldn't bare to see him like this. There were bags under his eyes, his hair was all over the place and he was missing his scarf. He looked out of it.

'Hey.' Molly finally managed to get out. 'What are you doing here? It's late.'

'I-I'm sorry, did I wake you? I can come back tomorrow-' Sherlock started, but was soon interrupted by Molly pulling him inside her flat.

'What's happened? You look awful - no offence, but you do.' Sherlock smiled slightly, a proper, genuine smile (one that Molly hadn't been the recipient of before), which made her heart skip a little.

'I've had a long, tiring day. I'm not surprised that I don't look my best.' He reasoned, sitting down on the sofa. Molly took a seat next to him, leaving enough space so as to not put him on edge - she knew how he was with things like that.

'Do you want to tell me about it?' She offered, leaning back and tucking her legs underneath her. Sherlock took a deep breath and started talking. He told her everything - from visiting Eurus, the three boys being knocked out and then subjected to all of those 'challenges'. He didn't leave one detail out. Well, except for the room with the coffin.

Sherlock couldn't bring himself to talk about what had happened. Because even though he carried on afterwards (even after he took everything out on the wooden coffin that led in the middle of the dark room) he still hadn't been able to comprehend what he'd made Molly do.

Of course, he knew that Molly had always harboured some form of feelings for him, but when he heard her say that those words were true, even when she said them, it had an unexpected effect on him. Like he'd been longing to hear those words from her mouth. But as was just mentioned, it was an unexpected reaction. He'd never even thought for a second that he could reciprocate Molly's feelings - always distancing himself from them, and emotions. But after all of the events in Sherrinford and Musgrave Hall, he realised how much he couldn't keep those feelings down for much longer. Even if those feelings didn't happen to be how he felt about Molly, he knew that he couldn't just keep pushing everything back down.

When he'd finished, Molly could only sit there and mull over his words. Even though her face was nearly blank, Sherlock could see that she was in shock. And he didn't blame her - in fact, he was quite sure that he was still in shock. He reminded himself in that moment to go back to therapy - just like he did after Mary's death. Even though Ella Thompson got John's limp wrong, she was surprisingly good at her job.

'And all of this happened today?' Molly finally spoke after a couple of minutes of silence. Sherlock nodded and sat back, leaning even further into the sofa. He could see that Molly was debating something - he could probably guess what.

He was right - she was debating something. The phone call. The exchange of words. Where did that leave them? Why did he do it? Why did she need to say those exact words to him? So many questions floating around in her head, and she didn't know where to start, or if she should even ask any of them at all.

'And...the phone call?' She asked quietly, half hoping that he wouldn't hear her and she can pretend she didn't say anything. But this is Sherlock Holmes. Of course he heard her. But he sort of wished he hadn't. Because that meant he had to explain what he didn't tell her, and he didn't think he had the energy to do so. Not tonight.

But at the same time, he had to. She asked him a question, and was now expecting an answer. She deserved the truth. He knew that much. The least he could do is provide her with some...closure?

'There was another room. After the Garrideb brothers, there was a slightly smaller one that had a screen at the front and in the middle...a-' He paused for a minute, debating his next words. 'In the middle there was a coffin. On the plaque, it read 'I love you'. Eurus popped up on the screen, and she asked 'who loves you?' and at first, I didn't know. But then I looked at how small the coffin was, and suddenly it was clear as day. You. She told me that I had to call you, from my phone, and get you to say those three words. Of course, I knew it was the truth, but if I didn't get you to say those words, then I was under the impression that she would blow up your house. So you can see now why I was so desperate.'

Molly thought this over for a minute, going through everything she wanted to say in her head. Just as she was about to ask another question, Sherlock spoke up again.

'I don't know how I feel right now. I've experienced more emotions today than I have for the past...ten years? So I'm a little worse for wear. All I do know, is that there is something there. And all I'm asking of you is to have a little patience. In all the time that I've known you, you've been so kind to me, and you've always helped me out - although I can't see why, I'm completely insufferable.' Molly had to giggle at this, but she let him continue nevertheless.

'I know you've been patient all this time, and I really am sorry for making you wait this long so that I could finally figure out what I'm feeling. I know now that there is something there - I just need a bit more time to figure out what exactly that is. Will you give me time?' He looked at her with hopeful eyes, ones that Molly couldn't help but find extremely endearing.

'Of course I'll give you time. As long as something will come out of it in the end, I'm willing to wait as long as possible. Within reason of course.' She joked, just so she could see that smile on Sherlock's face again.

'Do you want to stay here tonight? I can take the couch, and you can-'

'No, that won't be necessary, Molly. You've already helped me enough tonight by just listening, so I should really be going so you can get some rest.' Sherlock stood up from the sofa, but Molly pulled him back down.

'Stay. Please. I want to make sure that you get enough rest, because I know you. You'll end up keeping yourself up all night overthinking everything, and that's not good for you.' She pleaded with her eyes, and Sherlock knew he couldn't say no.

'Okay, yes, I'll stay here tonight. Thank you.' He reached over and squeezed her hand, and Molly knew how much the gesture meant. Even though this is what she had been dreaming of for god knows how long (not the events of that day, but of the evening), she pushed her feelings to the back of her mind, and focused on making sure that Sherlock was alright, because that was the most important thing.

'So I'll take the couch, and-'

'No, _I_ will take the sofa. You've already been kind enough to let me stay over, you should keep your bed.' Molly shook her head, but she knew that this wasn't up for discussion.

'O- fine. But if you need me, don't hesitate to wake me. I can always take the day off tomorrow.' Now Sherlock was the one to shake his head.

'No. You mustn't skip work because of me. I'm a grown man - I'll be _fine,_ I promise.' He slowly leaned up and kissed her forehead, and it was safe to say that Molly could possibly have fainted at the gesture.

'Okay. Well, there are blankets in the airing cupboard, you'll probably need a couple tonight - it's a bit chilly. And help yourself to any food in the kitchen.' She stood up from the sofa, and started walking towards her bedroom. Just before she closed the door, she spun around. 'Goodnight, Sherlock.'

'Goodnight, Molly.'


End file.
